Violin
by Wulf
Summary: A twisted summer spent with a boy, and a boy with a violin. PreAndross, an experiment with writing styles.


Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

AN/Warnings: SLASH, lime (slightly yiffy).

Genre(s): Angst, romance, drama, lime.

Setting: One year before the war with Andross.

Additional AN: Not really a part of the GLS (I guess you could say "kinda."). It's in the same arc. Just a little something I cooked up during a bout of depression. I've also been reading too much Anne Rice lately. This is probably one of the most twisted things I've ever written.

  
  


Violin

Who are these shades we wait for and believe  
will come some evening in limousines   
from Heaven?  
The rose   
though it knows  
is throatless  
and cannot say.  
My mortal half laughs  
The code and the message are not the same.  
And what is an angel  
But a ghost in drag?

-Stan Rice, from "Of Heaven"

  
  


Such sad strains, curling around one another, overlapping the last with a new tendril of melancholia. He was quite gifted, paws sliding the bow gently across the smooth white strings, body swaying to the cheerless tune, as if he were the melody itself, so wrapped up in the graceful song.

He was standing atop a small hill, grass wavering in the gentle breeze as if prisoner to his melody as well. His button-up shirt was far too large for his young body, and the folds of it flapped behind him, tail curving up from underneath, moving in synch with his body. All alone, he stood.

Eyes closed shut, playing the same melody when it ended.

Miyu slowly approached him, one paw holding the heavy bag slung over one of his shoulders, the other paw laden with books that were held under his arm, Cornerian Flight Academy crest on his shirt. He stood for a moment, lost in the sensual but sad rhythm, until the boy noticed him, arms dropping to his sides as he turned to face him.

It had been a tentative friendship at first, neither knowing what to do, but wanting to. Like two creatures that didn't quite understand each other, but didn't want to run away, out of fear that the other might not follow. .Miyu started with hi, and the violinist simply smiled and looked away, instrument at his side. Miyu requested a song, and the violinist complied.

Everyday, he'd come to the same hill, to find the boy playing the same song, over and over, until he finally noticed the other's presence. Miyu would request another song, smile when it was finished, and listen again as the original melody was played once more. The boy with the violin never said a word.

It was simple enough, beautiful in its purity; a boy, and a boy with a violin.

But such sad strains, how it hurt to listen to them! Like sharp needles of ice settling deep within his insides.

"Why do you play the same song over and over again?" Miyu finally asked one day, books and papers and homework spread around him in the grass. Typically, the violinist blushed, licking his dry lips before speaking.

"For someone who should not be forgotten," he said simply enough, in a sad tenor before letting his eyes slide shut and playing once again. And Miyu listened again, like every afternoon since he'd found him, and few words were exchanged.

It was like that until Miyu finally asked his name.

The boy looked away, sitting now, against a tree, violin like always at his side, knees pulled up to his chest. Grey ears pulled against his head, he finally returned a shy brown gaze and spoke.

"Wolf."

He smiled, turning the name over in his head a few times, loving its simplicity.

"Miyu," he returned, and the violinist played once again.

But ah, such grace with which he played, such beauty rolling off slender fingertips. Miyu lay at his feet, eyes half lidded as he stared back up, Wolf once again running over the same song.

"Was is someone important?"

"Not terribly."

And so the days passed, and few words were spoken, just enough to be comfortable. Wolf played, and he listened, smiling, asking questions when he decided he wanted to. Sometimes Wolf would sit, and he and Miyu would simply gaze at the horizon, without words, without songs, and watch as the sky caught fire with the setting sun.

Miyu would rest his head on a strong shoulder, and Wolf would blush.

"So, who was it then?"

"A woman. She was... very beautiful."

It was twilight once again, Miyu drifting to sleep on Wolf's shoulder, the other staring at the sky. Wolf shifted his weight, awaking the lynx, who yawned and stretched, pawing at sleep-fuzzy eyes.

"It's late," Wolf stated, the first thing he'd every said to Miyu that wasn't an answer to one of his questions.

"So it is," Miyu smiled back, once again leaning heavily upon Wolf, and stayed at the sky, watching as the stars started appearing from behind clouds.

Wolf squirmed slightly, but said nothing.

"So, who was she?"

Wolf looked away, brown eyes clouding over for a moment before he pushed the emotions away.

"My mother."

Miyu blinked, shaggy brown bangs falling over his face as he ducked his head slightly. Taking Wolf's paw in his, he smiled, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I think I understand."

And so they'd sat for a while, Miyu holding Wolf's paw while he blushed.

It was several days later when Miyu finally saw Wolf again, things had gone to hell on Katina, and Miyu knew that that Andross bastard was at it again. Five years ago, he'd unleashed hell on Corneria, and now suddenly rumors about Andross building an army were whispered in every dark corner, and the tabloids had picked up on them as well. Terrorist bombings had rumbled throughout Lylat's major cities, and Katina's Frontline Base had been attacked only yesterday.

Cadets from the Flight Academy had been dispatched to deal with the smell of cooking flesh and melted steel, training, they'd called it, and after almost four days of shifting through dead bodies of his comrades and helping set up makeshift hospital tents, all he wanted to do was forget about what he'd seen and listen to Wolf's violin.

He was where he always was, violin under his muzzle, body swaying to the rhythm, breeze running through his too-big clothes. Miyu watched for a moment, entranced, just enjoying the sight of something he knew, glad to be back after all that sorrow and blood.

Wolf stopped playing, the last note still hanging in the air as if unsure of where to go, and without turning around, he spoke. "You're back. Wondered where you were."

Miyu smiled, paws in his pockets as he walked towards the lone violinist. "How'd you know it was me?"

Wolf said nothing, simply turning around to face Miyu, who stopped in his tracks as Wolf nervously fingered a newly acquired eye patch. He looked at his feet, blush running high on his cheeks, hating how Miyu always managed to make him blush, hating that he was blushing now, hating the way Miyu was looking at him.

Miyu blinked, at a loss for words.

"W-Wolf?" he finally managed. "How...what....Are you okay?"

Wolf simply nodded, not looking up, paw still trying desperately and failing to cover up his eye patch.

"Hey, it's okay," Miyu whispered, taking the last few steps toward Wolf, putting a paw under his chin and forcing the short, sweet, violinist to look up at him. "It really is," he breathed against Wolf's lips when the canine finally looked up at him, and then there was nothing left to be said because Miyu had pressed his lips to Wolf's, and suddenly breathing wasn't a requirement anymore.

And simply enough, it began, just like that. Miyu, and simple chaste gesture, a small kiss that meant no harm. Then something deeper, a betraying tongue, a wandering paw, and suddenly he realized it was raining, and didn't remember when it had started. Wolf was lying under him, shirtless, when he'd lost it, he didn't know, things had gotten hazy-- but it felt good, everything did, Wolf was pressing against him, and everything felt good.

A siren, a strange kind of seraph was writhing beneath him, drenched and shrouded in starlight. Miyu caressed Wolf's furry cheek, the other paw intertwining his fingers with Wolf's. He rose higher and higher, working towards one simple blinding moment before spiraling down once more into his earth-bound body.

And again, no words were exchanged, no declarations of love, or sweet endearments.

Miyu curled up next to Wolf and slept. 

In the morning, it was raining again, and Wolf was no where to be found. Miyu dressed quickly, standing at the hill looking over it, rain-drenched bangs plastered to his face. No Wolf, no violin, and nothing left to be said.

Miyu blinked storm grey orbs, gut twisting beneath oppressive skies.

And then he left.

It was waiting for him on his doorstep when he returned home, the violin, a simple note attached.

//Sorry. I didn't want to do it.

Play it for me.

--Wolf//

Miyu crumpled the note in his paw, grabbing the leather case and taking it with him inside. He turned the TV on, but hit the mute button. It was on the news now, on every channel. There was war, and their hero was dead. Legendary McCloud was dead and the Frontline base had been blown to shit, and Wolf had left, and Miyu finally understood.

Sitting in his chair by the window, Miyu glanced out the window at the grey and washed-out world before settling the violin underneath his chin. He'd taken a few lessons as a kitten, and still remembered, and Wolf had played that song so many times now, he knew it by heart.

Yes, straight through the heart.

He closed his eyes, the bow settling over the strings as he began to play.

For someone who should not be forgotten.....

  
  
  
  


Possibly the start of its own series. (Oh, god, no!)

Anne Rice and Chrono Cross tunes don't mix. I guess you could say this was a little experiment with writing styles. So was it good for you? 

On a different note, thank you to all those who have read the GLS. I had no idea it was generating so much support. (So I guess I have to continue it now, huh?)


End file.
